


Ruminations

by Overtlytextual



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff, Softness, ainsworth is actually dead after this, ann is the femme I want to protect and also want to be, anne is the protective butch we need and deserve, love and lesbian justice, this show has been on my mind since it came out and turned me gay again, warm tender feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overtlytextual/pseuds/Overtlytextual
Summary: After the devastating revelations about Ann and Reverend Ainsworth come to light, the two lovers reflect quietly on their love and connection while interlocked in a tender embrace where it all started-on Ann's sitting room couch. Features both Ann and Anne's POV, canon up until 1x04.





	Ruminations

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my very first fanfic on this site, after being a member for almost five years. I am just getting back into creative writing, and I have been more than a little inspired by the beautiful love story of Gentleman Jack-it warms my little queer heart!!! I wanted to do my part to grow our little fandom just a tiny bit bigger, so this is a one-shot I whipped up while trying to process the events of Episode 4, so there are spoilers up until then. There is a little touch of smut if you squint, but the M rating is mostly because this fic does mention sexual assault, so if that will be triggering for you, be warned. I do not have a beta reader, all mistakes are mine. All characters belong to the geniuses over at HBO/BBC. Enjoy!

**Anne Lister**

Rage. Burning rage. Anne wanted to punch something, a wall, (or better yet, Reverend Ainsworth). As she held Miss Walker tightly in her arms, smelling her perfume and some deep, innate scent that was just quintessentially Ann, the fire in her veins only grew more powerful. How could someone look at her, this being full of love and compassion and innocence, and abuse her? The cruelty of the world seemed to know no bounds. She hoped that she had been able to convey to Ann that what had happened was not her fault. Anne looked down at her love, her future, who seemed to have gone silent all of a sudden. Her normally clear blue eyes seemed cloudy, smoky with worry. It had always been a complex game for her, balancing fearless flirtations with a hesitancy intended to make the women she was courting think it was their idea. When their relationship had started, Ann was ashamed to admit that it was mostly about the money, although the stunning beauty of Miss Walker couldn't be denied. But there was something about Ann, her face, her eyes, her voice, that never seemed to give anything away. She seemed just as confused as anyone to her own state of mind for the most part. Unless in fleeting moments of passionate confessionals, she largely remained a mystery, one that Anne was increasingly desperate to uncover. Because what was between them was so much more than a game.

It was love.

Until this moment, she was too afraid to admit to herself that her words and actions had moved beyond calculation and reason and into a murkier category that defied classification of any sort. But it had. Without even knowing it, her seemingly fragile and unworldly little darling had ensnared her tightly, to the point where pulling away seemed a nightmare comparable to the deepest pits of hell. Ann somehow made her feel like the king of the world and the lowliest peasant, all at the same time. She just wanted to return to the cottage in the woods, back to their very first kiss, to Ann's tentative admission. It had all been so much easier back then. Anne could simply shut out the world with the pull of the blinds, and then her and her love could be quietly, blessedly alone together. Then came the touching, the diffusion of one body's heat to another, and the very singular feeling of bringing someone you care about to the very peaks of human pleasure, and watching her face change, her voice crack, and those hips, rolling like an ocean wave coming to meet the shore as she climaxed underneath her. Anne had the urge to comfort her love this way once more, but she knew that physical intimacy between them had taken on a new meaning. Ann trusted her to take care of her, even though her only previous experience had been with someone who violated her. Lister hoped that their lovemaking had shown Ann that violence and taking and forcing was the antithesis of what a partnership should be. She was different in a soft bed than in her sitting room, more at home with herself. All of Ann's concerns and anxieties seemed to melt away when Anne touched her. Anne hypothesized that physical touching, in this new, soft way, was the ultimate act of reassurance for a person who had only known suffering in this area.

She wanted to shield her from the harm that had already been done, to hide her away from the world that suddenly seemed so frightening. Go far away, where nothing and no one could touch them. To the mountains or the islands, where their only anchor to the physical world was one another. As she squeezed Ann's form closer to her, she realized that Ann had fallen asleep in her arms. Anne lifted her up onto her back and took her up to bed, where she tucked her in and gave her a goodnight kiss on the forehead. However, she didn't leave without promising, to both God and Ann (who were quickly becoming one and the same) that, no matter what happened next, to never let anything come between them again. No man, clergy or not, would keep her from making this woman her wife.

**Ann Walker**

Relief crashed down on her like a hard rain. This thing, this dirty little secret she had carried within herself for so long had finally escaped her. The past weekend had brought nothing but misery. She hadn't slept or ate or breathed it seemed, not since Anne offered her this ultimatum. Not only would Ann have to welcome Reverend Ainsworth into her home, but she had to face the very real possibility that Miss Lister would not be there to protect her, to crack little jokes and share smiles that made her feel at once daring and yet so very safe. That's what this feeling was, as Anne cradled her in her arms. Safety. Ann couldn't remember the last time she experienced this strong sensation. She had always known there was something more sinful than simple infidelity with her relationship with Reverend Ainsworth, but before now she could scarcely form the thought in her head, much less say it out loud, so desperately she tried to deny it.

Ann still felt the wrongness of those nights, and yet she also felt...cleansed. Before she had finally broken down and told Anne the truth, there was a dank, dirty feeling that hovered over her like her own personal raincloud. But Anne, like the Sun that she was, had cleared away all the mess and set everything right in her world again, as usual. Ann let herself relax in her lover's arms, feeling her stronghold around her and her hand in her hair. She knew there was a reckoning coming, not only for Ainsworth, but for her and Anne as well. However, all negative thoughts seemed to flee from her mind like passing clouds. Ann could feel the heat of anger coming off of her darling, but instead of troubling her, it simply made her feel more alive.

That was the greatest gift Anne had given her. Not the golden gondola, which she wore with pride as a symbol of her love. Not even the gift of bedroom pleasures, something Ann had never felt was possible since him, pleasures which she had more than enjoyed exploring in the warm cocoon of Ann's arms. It was the way the other woman spoke and carried herself through the world, the way she demonstrated her power without fear of reproach or retaliation, the way she loved life. It made Ann feel as though she could have that as well, that her small world inside this gold-lacquered prison her family kept her in could open and expand, if only Anne would take her by the hand and lead her forth. She had already told her that she loved her. And so had Anne, in her way. Sure, she hadn't said it, but she had more than shown her through touches and firm advice and this lover's embrace she was nestled in now.

She knew that Anne had started out with her to gain access to her money. She also knew that she had been with other women before her-no one was that experienced in matters of the physical realm by accident. But she accepted these flaws, because she knew that Anne would always accept hers. They were intertwined now, and almost seemed to move as one being. Besides, it was clear now that the love they shared was completely, entirely mutual, totally absent of any motivations except those pure of heart. And Ann couldn't say she minded how confident Anne was in their shared bed. She was the same in love as she was in life-excited, eager, bright-eyed. Ann could feel herself becoming slick below her belly at the thought of what is was like when Ann took ultimate control, and gave her permission to return complete release. 

Ann felt the same slip of control that happened in their bed happen in this moment. She wanted to disappear into the sea of black that lay draped across Anne's body, to be enveloped in the darkness, which seemed more comforting than uncertain. She heard whispers in her ear, promises mixed in with threats mixed in with sweet nothings, only they weren't nothings anymore. Ann could feel her steady breath warming Anne's neck, and felt her eyes on her. She didn't have the energy to look back at her. All of a sudden Ann felt sleepy, truly exhausted by the events of the past few days. And now, ensconced in the love of her life's hold, she felt her eyes close, until she saw nothing but black. She was just about to float on to dream land when she felt Anne's lips on her brow, a goodnight gift to send her off to the stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> What did you guys think, especially in regards to the two POVs? Did it work? Let me know in the comments, or just rant to me about this show, I think my mom is getting sick of talking about it! I definitely want to write again in this fandom. I've been toying around with the idea of just doing pure fluff and smut because I never want anything bad to happen to either of these two and want to create a fantasy world in which I can make every bad thing go away. In a similar vein, I was also thinking about perhaps doing a non-canon fic in which the time period is different-maybe not present, but like 1950s/60s where Anne can be the political butch who punches cops at Stonewall and Ann is her adorable femme girlfriend who is just coming out as a queer woman?? Again, let me know down below!


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